Once there was a girl who couldn’t afford to buy an underwear.
One day the girl decided to climb a papaya tree behind an old Catholic church so she could steal its fruits. Up up to the highest part she climbs. Her bare knee-length skirt is flowing with the wind with her every ascend. Then suddenly a priest appears, fresh from his afternoon service. Horrified, he yells, “Come down here!”
So the girl came down and to her surprise, the priest handed her money. He says with kindness, “Here take it and go buy yourself some underwear. You poor little one.” The girl went to the store, then come home and told her mom about the incident. To which her mother saw this as an opportunity as she herself could use some fresh, new underwear.
The next day, the mother went behind the church, climbed up the papaya tree and she hears the priest from the ground yelled, “Come down here!”
So she goes down and to her gladness, that priest did hand her some money. Then he says compassionately, “Here, take it. Go buy yourself some razors.”
My late father is the last person in this world to make a joke, let alone a green one specially in front of me. Stiff and strick, that old man was. So this one was just oddly random.
It was one rare afternoon indeed. One of my most memorable days with him. Rare for it was the only afternoon in my life that I could remember my father have taken rest from work. It was also the only day in my life that my father randomly pulled me because he had a joke to tell.
It was his one joke for me. And I couldn’t forget it.